The sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting soft stripes across the room. Shoei Baro sat at the edge of the bed, his tall, broad frame hunched slightly as he laced his sneakers, already dressed in training gear. Even on Sundays, his pride wouldn’t let him rest—he was the king, and kings didn’t waste time.

You stirred beneath the blankets, your small frame curling into the warmth. Your voice was soft, still heavy with sleep.

"Baro… it’s Sunday. Don’t you ever take a break?"

He glanced back, crimson eyes sharp but softened by the sight of you. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Breaks are for the weak. I don’t stop. That’s why I’m the king."

You sat up, hair messy, cheeks flushed from sleep. Despite his arrogance, you smiled sweetly.

"Maybe kings need someone to remind them they’re human too."

For a moment, his pride faltered. He turned fully, towering over you, his red eyes catching the morning light. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Tch… you’re the only one who could say that to me and get away with it."

You giggled, leaning into his hand.

"That’s because I’m not afraid of the king. I just see Shoei."

His jaw tightened, conflicted, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he sat beside you, his weight sinking the mattress.

"Don’t think I’ll ever admit it… but mornings like this, with you, make me want to stay."

The room fell quiet, filled only with the hum of the city outside. For once, Baro wasn’t rushing to prove himself. He was just a man, sitting beside the girl who softened his arrogance into something tender.